Chapter Thirteen
After the conversation with Parker, I felt free. Lighter, happier. We talked until the sun came up and then went into our separate bedrooms. There was no more animosity between us, or hate, which made it a bit easier. Hate could weigh you down, and I hadn’t realized how angry and hate-filled I had been until I let some of it go.
My cell phone buzzed, and I realized I hadn’t checked it since yesterday when Parker and I had our heart-to-heart.
It was Ava. I answered the phone and prepared myself for an earful.
“Bitch, listen here, I’ve been texting you since last night. You better have screwed Levi and been passionately in his embrace all night long; otherwise, I’m mad at you and will never forgive you for not answering my messages.”
I laughed. “No, I was with Parker. He flew in yesterday.” I listened to her drop something in the background.
“You didn’t? Please tell me you didn’t get back together with him!” Her voice was low, the tone she reserved for scolding her children.
“No. We just talked, reminisced. It was good. I needed it. He needed it.”
“He needs a quick kick to the nuts for cheating on you. That’s what he needs,” Ava added. “But I’m glad you talked it out. I’m sure it’s easier to be friends and part ways on good terms than hate each other’s guts. Although it would have been great for him to come home to all his shit out on the front lawn.”
I rolled my eyes. Ava and her dramatics. “While I’m not sure if that would have been the most mature reaction, I can see how it would have been therapeutic.” I giggled.
“So, Levi. What happened? Did you kiss? Did you bone? Please give me something juicy. I need to live vicariously through you. I have to schedule sex with Beckett like it’s my annual pap smear. Give me details, woman!”
“No details to give. He saved me from another depression-induced romance movie and Ben and Jerry’s session. We went to the beach. No funny business. I’m not ready for any of that.”
“Boring,” Ava said with a fake snore. “Did he at least try? He so wants you, doesn’t he?” I could hear the smile in her voice.
“I told him I couldn’t kiss him.”
“Why the hell not?” she screeched.
“I’m trying not to jump from one relationship to another. Shouldn’t I take time to be alone? To figure out where I go from here?” It was a rhetorical question. Were there rules on how soon after you decided to divorce your husband that you moved on? There had to be a rule book or something.
“You are falling into your old ways. Not everything has rules and needs a life plan. Let things happen as they should. Don’t deny yourself a fun time because you feel like you must follow some rules that don’t exist. You aren’t cheating.”
“I know that,” I countered.
“Then what are you afraid of?”
Everything? Opening myself up to someone, even if just for a friendship that could hurt me. When you suffer from depression, so much is a potential to exacerbate the outbursts. With Parker, it was easier to stay home and veg because of our lifestyle, but now, if I had any hope of living again, I had to get out there, and it was terrifying and exciting all at the same time.
I glanced up as Parker appeared in the doorway, dressed and ready to head to the hospital to see Emily.
“All right, Ava, I got to go. Time to go see Emily. I won’t ever ignore your messages again. I’m sorry, and I love you.”
“Apology accepted. Love you, and tell Parker I said to drop dead.” The phone went silent.
“Ava says hi,” I said to Parker as I shoved my phone in my purse and headed toward the door.
He let out a small laugh. “Sure, she did.”
“You ready?” I held the door open. “She’s not doing well.”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Sometimes it’s best to just go for it and not think about it too much.”
I nodded and locked the door behind us. I knew his words were meant regarding Emily, but they made sense to me on other levels too. I was an overthinker, and sometimes you just had to let go.
***
I’d never seen Parker so on edge. His jaw clenched as he listened to Emily and the therapist speak. I sat and listened, their childhood the topic of conversation and how much it had impacted Emily. Parker had shared most of his past with me, it was inevitable with how long we’d been together, but hearing it from Emily’s mouth, watching the tears stream down her face as she spoke of the abuse, losing herself in mindless sex, giving up a child for adoption… it hurt my heart.
“Do you regret giving up your child for adoption?” Marcie, the therapist, probed. It was a difficult topic that never got mentioned around Emily. I watched Emily’s shoulders tense, and I wanted to scream at Marcie. What a stupid question.
“Of course, it impacted her,” Parker said, leaning forward. “I don’t understand how dredging up all of this past shit is going to help. Let’s focus on getting Emily clean. A fresh start. That’s what she needs, not sitting here and bringing up a past that we can’t change. We had a screwed-up childhood. Big deal!” His jaw clenched, as did his fist as he leaned back into the chair. I reached out and squeezed his knee, trying to offer him some semblance of comfort. With a swift shift of his leg, he brushed me away.
Why the hell am I here?
“Our childhoods shape who we are. Whether we want to remember or not, they are all very much a part of us. Emily’s addiction and her promiscuous tendencies all can be linked to her childhood.” Marcie placed down her pen. Parker was a tough sell on anything to do with mental health. He did the bare minimum that the army required. He believed that drinking water, working out, and eating healthy could cure just about anything. So this was extremely out of his element.
“Bullshit.” He shook his head. “I can’t do this.” He stood up, jarring the table with his leg.
“You never could. That’s why you left. Run away, big brother. Run away from the shitty life we had. Pretend it never happened. Run away from your marriage. That’s what you do. I don’t run.”
“No, you fucking shoot up and spread your legs.” Parker’s voice was low, the vibration shaking me to my core. His anger was showing, the same anger that had made me keep my mouth shut for so many years. Emily didn’t play that game, though. She never cowered from him. Ever.
“Now, settle down. We don’t place blam—” Marcie tried to bring order back to her session.
“Classic Parker. Points at all that is wrong with his baby sister, but won’t look at himself. Look at this woman.” She pointed to me. “She’s beautiful. She worshipped the ground you walked on so much it made me sick, and you cheated on her. Seems like I’m not the only one with fucking problems.” She laughed and crossed her legs.
And it just got even more awkward. Why was I being brought into this? I felt like I was at a tennis match watching these two go at it, and now they threw me in to make an already shitty situation worse. Parker paced the office, making it seem even smaller with his large frame.
“Rainey, you’ve been awfully quiet over there.” Marcie gave me a small smile.
“I feel like I shouldn’t be here,” I stated. “This is family business, and I’m—”
“Not family anymore.” Parker’s eyes bore into me. He was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One moment he was having a heart-to-heart with me over old letters, and the next he was slicing me with his words. I’d been sliced enough to last a lifetime. I was surprised I didn’t bleed out.
“Exactly.” I squared my shoulders, trying to sound stronger than I felt, and bit back the tears.
“See!” Emily flung up her hands. “He’s pushing away one of the only other people who believes in me, who has stuck by me through all of this, because he’s damaged too. At least I admit I have a problem.”
“This isn’t about me!” Parker leaned up against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.
“No. It’s about all of you. How Emily’s addiction, and all that’s happened, has changed each of you and directly impacted your lives. Addiction doesn’t just touch the user, it impacts the entire family.” Marcie tapped her pen against the yellow notebook that she had been writing in the entire session. I fought the urge to scoot closer to read what she was writing. How fucked-up were we? “Emily, tell Parker what he means to you. Tell him what you told me.”
Emily shifted in her chair and looked over at me. I gave her a reassuring nod. Sometimes just laying it all out there was the best way with Parker. He understood direct best. I tended to be more passive-aggressive, which didn’t work well.
“You’re my fucking brother. You protected me from beatings, made sure I never went to bed hungry when Mom and Dad would be out doing God knows what. Who I am, the choices I made, aren’t because of what you didn’t do for me, because you did everything. I just wanted—” Her voice cracked. “I want to be different. I don’t want to be like Mom, but here I am, her fucking spitting image. But it’s all I’ve known, and you stick with what you know.” Silent tears streamed down Emily’s face. Parker slowly moved toward her and took her in his arms. He stroked her hair, his voice shaking with emotion that caused tears to stream down my face.
“I didn’t do enough. I ran. I left you here and didn’t think about how not having me around would influence you. I failed you as a brother.”
Emily squirmed from his embrace and looked between him and me. “You both are constantly there for me whenever I screw up. If it wasn’t for you both, I’d be dead. Your love for each other gave me hope.” Reaching over to me, Emily took my hand in hers and squeezed.
I thought my marriage was a fail, that the past years of my life meant nothing, but looking into Emily’s eyes, I knew it was exactly what it needed to be.